A Series Of All Enthralling Coincidences
by BelleChosette
Summary: Hermione would have never guessed that this is where her crazy life would take her, all it took were a few coincidences to completely upturn everything she knew to be true, but now that that she was here, all she could do was try to make the best, and learn to love her new life, maybe learning what really matters along the way.


**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER AND CO. THEY ALL BELONG TO J.K. ROWLING**

**A/N This story takes places in the summer after their sixth year, Hermione is 16**

Running, how long had she been running? She couldn't remember anymore. She could hear the tell tale snaps of branches and crushing of frozen leaves behind her, the cold winter air biting harshly into her skin as it whipped past her, they were closing in, she had no doubts that they would out number her, but like any good Gryffindor she would go down fighting. She kept running though, never once slowing down through the dense forrest, cursing internally at herself, why she she let herself get separated from Harry and Ron; that was obviously their plan: divide and conquer. She could feel the Death Eaters strong magical signatures closing in from every angle, she was surrounded. She tried to run, but they moved as a fluid being-keeping her encircled. Finally she stopped running, and just stood shivering as the shadowed figures appeared out of the trees one by one.

"Well, well, look what we have here; a beautiful little Mudblood," Fenrir Greyback snarked stepping of of the foliage, his gruff voice sending shivers through Hermione that had nothing to do with the cold, "Oh my, if my eyes aren't mistaken, this, is the ever elusive Hermione Granger! Oh yes our Master will be so pleased and reward us!" the moonlight glinted off his sharp teeth menacingly as his lips twisted into a cruel smile the the revelation

"Oh are you going turn me into your Master like a good puppy?" Hermione taunted, instantly regretting it. The fury raged on the werewolf's face like an untamed forest fire- wild, scary, and unpredictable, all of the warriors surrounding her seemed to tense nervously, and he raised a single massive hand as if to strike her, but stopped mid motion, his face a mask of contemplation.

"No our Master will want the _pleasure_ of being the only one to touch you." the way the burly Alpha uttered those words sent a frisson of fear sliding down her spine, Hermione knew there were many branches of torture but Voldemort would never... Before she could worry about that anymore, the muscled werewolf grabbed her roughly around her shoulders, keeping her restrained.

"Quick cuff her now!" he hollered, his warriors jumping into action at the command, before she could process the flurry of motion surrounding her one of the masked figures had snapped silver shiny handcuffs onto her wrists and ankles and she was thrown over the shoulders of Fenrir.

"Come on Death Eaters, let's return our Prize to the Dark Lord and receive our reward, you all know the meeting place, go!" Hermione tried desperately to wandlessly unhook her shackles, or apparite herself away, but both to know avail. She supposed that these cuffs kept her Magic suppressed and bound. "Hold on and don't try to do anything funny." Greyback growled into her face, obviously aware of her attempts at escape, tightening his grip on her painfully as they disappeared

Hermione had never enjoyed apparition, the feeling of being shoved through a too-small tube never had struck her as the most enjoyable way to travel, especially when she had no say in the destination, and had to share the small tube with a malicious hairy mammoth of a man who took up the vast majority of the room leaving her squished into her own skin.

Luckily it was a quick journey, they landed roughly-Fenrir obviously not caring too much if he jostled her around on his hard shoulders, she wouldn't be surprised if she had bruises in the morning. The area that they had landed in seemed to be another forrest, but less dense and with taller trees, maybe a different country; she couldn't be sure. She could hear the resounding pops all around her as the following Death Eaters entered into the clearing. There had been fifteen other pops, were all of these Death Eaters going to escort her to Voldemort? Did they think her that much of a threat? How flattering.

Without a single word all of the cloaked men all took off in the same direction marching silently towards their secret fortress, and all though Hermione found the quiet eerie, she wasn't going to be the one to break the heavy silence. After about thirty minutes of walking-during which time Hermione had been strategizing- they finally exited the woods, she could vaguely in the distance see a large building with a few lights glowing warmly in the dark night. It seemed to have the general shape of a castle. It was still probably a mile off, but she assumed it must be where they were headed based on the size and location.

Only then did it really sink in, she had been captured, she was going to be handed over to the Darkest Wizard alive, where as she would likely be tortured within an inch of her life, if she was kept alive. The dread clutched at her heart like an icy hand and she shivered violently, but she was a Gryffindor and she'd go down fighting like one! She set her jaw and spine in a ridged line determined to not show an weakness to the enemies.

Fenrir looked up feeling the shift her posture, and smiled a wolfy grin, leering at the young witch, "Oh yes, my Master will like you very much, so much fire to kill." he said it in such and honest and gruff tone the she was once again worried about what would happen once she was handed over, though she showed no change outwardly.

**VHGVHGVHGVHGVHGVHGVHGVHGVHGVHGVHGVHGVHGVHGVHGVHVGHVGV**

She had been correct in her initial assumptions, the building was indeed a castle, almost as big as Hogwarts, also huge and made of stone. The outside seemed to give off a cold and desolate, 'abandon all hope ye who enter here' air the brunette witch thought wryly, the inside though had an entirely different mood, all warm lights and cheerful fires lining the hallways.

Her guard and his troop all strode through the wide hallways, there were no guards posted, and no visible test she could see that they used to determine identities of the people entering. Hermione knew that Voldemort was too paranoid to just leave his base of operations completely open and unwarded, which meant there were many intricate hidden spells and wards at work here too heavily shielded for her Magic to pick up on, which was an impressive feat, Hermione was very sensitive to different Magics; but then again he wasn't the most powerful wizard of their time for no reason: well expect for Harry, her mind tacked on as an after thought.

Her captors strolled through the castle like they owned the place, obviously riding high on their catch, arrogance didn't become them she thought as they burst into what was obviously the main meeting hall, throwing the doors open carelessly. Her gaze darted quickly around the large room checking for threats and assessing them all: a smattering of probably 50-75 Death Eaters were roaming about the large room, they were all dressed in their uniform black capes but their masks had been left at home. They obviously felt comfortable here in their Master's home, chatting with their cohorts or sipping from their elegant crystal champagne glasses, all filled with a pale rosy champagne. It was a surprisingly normal sight: just a bunch of friends relaxing together, no worries that they were all Death Eaters, sans their masks, and in the dead center of the room there was a raised platform jutting out of the floor, with a single throne on it, and of course the Dark Lord himself perched on his throne, watching his obedient followers just like the egomaniac that he was. He still looked rather snake-ish his head gleaming under the light, he was still missing a nose and his skin looked swallow in the light, but Hermione couldn't help but think he had a kind of classic handsome. Not that she would ever admit that.

The cold feeling of dread set in again in her stomach, but the proud lioness refused to buckle.

"My Lord, I bring to you the Mudblood and Potter-Supporter, Ms. Hermione Granger." Fenrir roared, lifting her off his shoulders and holding her out like a prized cattle to be viewed, he was obviously the ring leader of their little group, taking all the credit for himself like a true leader. Voldemort froze momentarily on his throne, eyeing the small girl perched on the werewolf's arms, she was trying not to tremble under his sharp red eyes trained right on her a war laid out plain and simple there behind the sparkle shining strongly in his iris'.

"My followers, today we make another crack in the opposition. Today we are one step closer to defeating the light, soon they shall fall, and we shall reign supreme!" Voldemort spoke clearly, shouting the words that would ignite his followers, and he wasn't mistaken, the responding roar was deafening, every man and woman in the hall screamed their approval at the words, and the Dark Lord smiled, a warped sort of thing as he basked in the knowledge of their upcoming success.

"What do you think my loyal followers, should I show the 'Golder Trio' Mudblood her place?" if they had been excited before, they were impassioned now hysterically demanding he show their opposition her place. "Then I'll show her her place." he murmured quietly, more to himself than to assure his followers, but they all heard and roared their agreement as he reached out out and plucked Hermione out of Greyback's arms, holding her far enough out that she wasn't touching his body but she could feel the heat radiating off of his chest, but the hand on the back of her neck and knees felt ice cold. The screeching Death Eaters continued to pound and yell, attempting to spur their master into faster motion.

Voldemort said nothing, quickly leaving the 'Throne Room' with the small scrawny girl clutched in his arms, while she tried desperately not to think about the torture that she was about to endure. As soon as they had rounded the corner, and were out of sight of his minions he instantly snapped his fingers, dissipating the cuffs off of the younger witch's limbs with a natural ease. Hermione had to stifle a gasp at the sheer amount of magical power he had just used, especially that it took to disappariate the magic resisting cuffs; Dumbledore hadn't even had that kind of power. Neither spoke as they reached their destination, a heavy thick door painted in seriously strong magic, with heavy wards stretched across it, the magic wasn't subtle, even Hermione could feel it lapping at her skin jaggedly as Voldemort pushed the door open wandlessly; Hermione rolled her eyes slightly, getting the point. He's incredibly powerful with more ability and Magic in one hand than she had in her whole body.

What she couldn't predict was that the room they were entering wasn't a torture chamber, no racks or weapon laying about no knives or whips hanging off the walls, it was just a bedroom and a rather tame one at that-a huge bed with smokey gray bedsheets, a few dressers and book shelves, nothing inherently evil-that the smart witch would have to guess was Voldemort's. He set her down on her feet, turning and manually locking the door, a motion that was useless and purely symbolic, she wasn't going anywhere if he didn't want her to. He turned back to her, his ruby eyes shining luminously in the low light being cast by a tame fireplace, a genuine smile spreading over his lips as he stepped into Hermione's personal space, his arms inclosing her.

**VHGVHGVHGVHGVHGVHGVHGVHGVHGVHGVHGVHGVHGVHGVHGVHGVHGVHG**

The next morning Hermione woke up feeling stretched and sore, but in a surprisingly satisfying way, like the stomachache that you get after a too-large delicious Christmas dinner. Voldemort had been very gentle, shockingly so, his cold hands and warm body had left and imprint on her mind and soul that wouldn't her leave for a long time; it had been her first time and besides it being with her enemy, it had been perfect, who knew the egotistical maniac taking over Britain could be so sweet, and selfless?

She could could hear the light tell tale snoring coming from behind her and feel the steady rise and fall of the chest against her back, she was aware of the legs intwined with her own, and the thin but muscled arm thrown across her waist. Although she was comfortable and warm, more so than she had been in a very long time, she knew couldn't procrastinate, she had to leave. She reached out with her Magic looking for any anti-apparition wards, finding nothing stopping her from escaping. She refused to acknowledge that maybe she was running from the feelings he had evoked in her, nope she just couldn't be his captive and Harry needed her, the light needed her, yep. She didn't feel anything that could keep her trapped in this room but that didn't mean that they weren't there, Voldemort was a very strong wizard, he could make his magic invisible to others if he so wanted. She huffed indignantly deciding she might as well try to apparate, she couldn't just lay there passively, but it wouldn't be easy: the first step, and the hardest by far was to get out of the Dark Lord's tenacious hold.

She looked around helplessly before spotting a pillow lying near her head, she grabbed it while attempting to unwind herself from Voldemort's long limbs and keeping him from waking up. Finally she was unwound, she shoved the pillow into his grasp watching nervously as he burrowed into the pillow without a disturbance, save for a particularly long snore. She almost snorted, the most evil wizard in existence liked to snuggle, sounds like the punchline to a bad joke. She turned her back on him, deciding the best course of action was to attempt to apparate a small distance, like from where she was standing to the adjoining bathroom she had briefly noticed the night before, if she could do that she was home free. She closed her eyes, taking one deep breath and attempted to move the small distance, reopening her hazel eyes she almost did a victory dance right in the middle of the grand bathroom. She supposed that it made sense that there were no wards, who would be stupid enough to apparate directly into the Dark Lord's private bedroom?

She looked around briefly, just catching her reflection in the mirror, a blush rising all over her lightly tanned body. Her curly hair was frizzy and knotted, she was naked, with a necklace of hickeys in varying shades and hues of reds, purples, and blues draped across her skin that her lover had given her, it seemed she would have a memory of this night for a while. She noticed a reflection in the mirror of a bundle of clothing in the corner of the room, hurriedly grabbing them and pulling them on, trying to be silent so as not to wake the sleeping wizard. The vestments turned out to be a pair of sweatpants and a big t-shirt, she slid the shirt on which fell down to her knees, she didn't allow herself any other thoughts as she apparated away.

**I'd love to hear your thoughts or suggestions. **


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